Dragontalk
by Thescarredman
Summary: "They're not animals. They are my children."


_Dragons are intelligent creatures – more intelligent, some maesters say, than humans. - _Tyrion Lannister

-0-

From the darkness of their man-made cave, the two dragons watched the wingless one who had unshackled them pick up his torch and, holding it high, waddle briskly toward the stairs leading up to the entrance. He reached them and began his ascent, never looking back.

"Well, that was curious," said Viserion. His voice was all hisses and squeaks and liquid rumbles, some too low for human ears. "Was that a youngling? He was so small."

"No," said Rhaegal. "He didn't sound right. He's an adult, just not very big." He added, "Maybe she keeps him locked up in the dark too. It would explain his sympathy."

"Do you really think Mother sent him? Her scent wasn't on him."

"The fear stink was pouring off him. How could her scent get through that?" Rhaegal gazed steadily at the torchlit entrance at the top of the stairs: the light of the little man's torch, and that of his companion, were fading away. "But why else would he have come, if not for Mother? He didn't smell like her … but the color of his voice reminded me of her. And his touch. It's why I let him take hold of the collar."

"He liked you." Viserion's voice turned teasing. "I think he would have liked to scratch your belly."

Rhaegal scoffed, a puff of smoke briefly lit with a reddish glow. "Maybe someday I'll let him scratch my belly from the inside."

"We can reach the door now," Viserion said. "It's open, even. Let's go."

"Wait," the other dragon commanded. "Let's think this through first."

"Come on, I'm wilting in this dark airless place. I want to feel wind under my wings. He took those things off our necks for a reason, didn't he?"

"She put them on for a reason too. Haven't we talked this to death while we've been down here?"

"And come up with nothing. We didn't do anything wrong."

"She didn't leave us here to punish us," the green and bronze dragon said thoughtfully. "I think she did it to hide us."

"Hide us from whom? And if that's so, why does she bring her friends down here?"

"I doubt the ones she brings down here are her friends," Rhaegal said. "Especially not the ones we eat."

"I wonder where Brother is," Viserion said. "And whether this had something to do with him."

"You wonder if it's because of something he did, you mean." Another smoky firejet. "If it was, I doubt he paid for it like we did. He was always her favorite. Still, she fettered him too, once."

"For scarce longer than the length of a meal. Do you even know what season it is anymore?"

"We might have got out of here sooner," Rhaegal reminded him, "if we had managed to keep our tempers in check. We shouldn't have carried on like that when she came for us."

"I think a show of anger was fairly justified," the white-and-scarlet dragon said stiffly. "But I didn't expect her to be _frightened._"

"All the more reason not to risk losing her trust again," he said.

More footsteps, just outside the doorway. Two pair of wingless ones, spears in their off hands, descended the stairs, each carrying a bound and bleating sheep between them. They dropped them to the floor a few paces beyond the bottom of the stair, a position formerly beyond the brothers' reach, and backed toward the stairs, spearpoints held before them.

"Mmm, mutton," said Viserion, and snorted in amusement as the men froze at the sound of his voice.

"Hush," said Rhaegal, backing away into the darkness. "Don't play with them. I'm hungry, suddenly, and they take forever going up those stairs backwards."

-0-

Rhaegal lifted his head, looking in the direction of the closed door at the top of the stairs. "Do you hear something?"

"Besides all that infernal thumping and bumping? And the squeals and screeches from the wingless ones in the city?" Viserion listened, intent; his nostrils flared. "What are they doing out there, anyway? I smell fire."

"Not that. Listen… there."

The white-and-scarlet dragon blinked; his nostrils twitched. "A dragon? Not Brother, it doesn't sound right."

"I think it's him," Rhaegal said. "Just … different."

The sound of wings grew closer. "Wake up, you worms," called Drogon, his new, deeper voice making the walls of their cave vibrate. "Mother wants you."

"What are we waiting for?" Viserion scrambled to the stairs, his speed surprising for a creature his size, especially one so long denied exercise. "Last one to the door is a lizard."

Rhaegal followed his brother up the stairs, but instead of waiting his turn, he leaped at the wall beside the doorway and smashed through just before his brother knocked down the round stone that covered it. "Come on, lizard."

The sky was streaked with smoke, and an unpleasant stink tainted the normally-tasty smell of roasted meat in the air. Almost directly above them soared a dragon – their brother by its markings, but grown to twice their size.

"I told you," said Viserion. "He doesn't look like he's gone a single day without sun and fresh air. And what has he been _eating_?"

"Whatever I please," Drogon called down. "Hurry up. We'll circle while you climb."

"We_?_" Rhaegal said. But then Drogon banked, turning toward the water, and they could see Mother clinging to his back.

"Always the showoff," Viserion said. He called as he climbed, "What are you doing with her?"

"The little ones in the boats are pestering her," the black dragon said. "We're going to do something about that."

"Sounds like fun." Viserion and Rhaegal struggled to keep up as Drogon glided out over the water. "Can we eat them?"

The bay spread out beneath them. It was filled with boats. Some of them were throwing smoky little sparks onto the shore; that was where the stink was coming from. The dragons flew low over the boats, and the spark-throwing stopped. "Is that it?" Rhaegal called.

Drogon stooped over the largest of the boats and hovered, the bellows of his wings making the ship beneath him rock. "I don't think so," he answered "They'll only start again once we're gone."

_Fire_, Mother said in her sweet birdlike voice. Drogon accommodated her, bathing the ship in flame as if it was prey, and the sweet smell of roasting meat made the others' nostrils flare. They joined in, and the craft split in the heat like a ripe carcass, spilling the two-legged morsels into the sea. The live ones thrashed about enticingly, and the dragons' bellies rumbled.

"See to the other sparky boats first," said Drogon, moving on to another ship. "There will be time to fill our bellies later."

"Then let's not waste time." Viserion separated from them and began scouring the decks of nearby ships with flame. "See? We don't even have to burn the ships. Just make the meat jump into the water, and the sparks stop."

Drogon growled at him, about to call him back, but was brought up short by some signal from Mother on his back. Instead, he followed the smaller dragon's example, going from ship to ship, washing the decks with flame, until all the ones with the odd spark-throwers were bobbing quietly in the waves. They overflew the others, and Mother called down to them, and they dropped their banners.

They feasted on the wingless ones splashing in the water. On Mother's orders, they took only the ones swimming for shore, leaving the ones headed for the ships alone. There was still plenty to go around. The ones with the hard shells on their torsos were the noisiest and splashed the most, owing to the extra effort it cost them to keep their heads above the surface; plucking them out of the water and flinging them up for a quick toasting was far easier than real fishing. The three dragons had eaten their fill in minutes.

Drogon led them to a hill above the city, where they all landed, heavy-bellied and content. Mother scratched and stroked them, and spoke soft words, some of which had real meaning for them. Rhaegal and Viserion burbled and purred, basking in the warmth of Mother's love once more.

After she left, the brothers talked somewhat before settling down to sleep. Rhaegal said to Drogon, "Where have you been all this time?"

"With her, looks like," said Viserion.

"No." Rhaegal puffed a little jet of dark flame in negation. "He hasn't been here at all."

"I was here when she needed me most," said the black dragon. "But I have ranged far, over forest, grasslands, and deserts of a dozen kinds. I've seen ruined cities and ones buzzing like beehives. I've traveled in every direction, turning back only when I reach deep snow or endless water. I've eaten the flesh of a hundred different creatures-"

"Yes, yes," said Viserion. "It's plain you didn't miss _us_."

"I scarce remembered you existed." The big black dragon rested his head on his tail and closed his eyes. "It's good to see you though, pain in the ears though you are."

"Well, right now, I'm hurting everywhere. I need rest, and exercise." Viserion rolled a shoulder and slapped his tail on the ground, making clods of dirt leap up out of the grass. "And food. Now that we're all back together, maybe you can show us all these places you've been, and we can all establish some hunting grounds of our own."

Drogon didn't stir, but a wisp of heated air stirred from between his teeth. "Not likely. We won't be here much longer. This place is hunted out."

"Oh, come on. Even while we were burning the boats, I saw plenty of prey - that didn't walk on two legs, even."

"Prey for us, yes," Drogon murmured. "But none for _her_."

The smaller dragon hissed in exasperation. "You're not making any sense."

"He is," said Rhaegal. "And he's right. This is the longest she's ever kept us all in the same place. She's run out of rivals here. Those little sneaks, attacking her from a distance over the water, as if they thought it would keep them safe. Those must be the last. There can't be anyone else left to challenge her. It's time to move on."

-0-

"Fish, fish, fish." Viserion snatched the charred lump out the air and bolted it down. "When we were shackled in the dark, I dreamed of fish. But after seven days with nothing else to eat, I'm sick of them."

The three dragons circled low over the herd of ships following Mother slowly westward. The trip had strengthened and energized Rhaegal and Viserion despite a lack of rest and sleep, and they could feel their bones creaking as they lengthened and thickened in expectation of a new growth spurt. But as their bodies prepared to put on mass, their hunger, never long quiet, became ever more demanding.

"They'd be more satisfying if you could fill up on just one, like we did when we were little," Rhaegal said, eyes on the water below. "One of them's hardly a morsel now. It seems like I spend all day hungry and looking for more."

"You should hunt bigger fish then," said Drogon, floating in the air above them. "The ones that follow the boats and leap out of the water from time to time aren't bad."

"You always get to them first," Viserion complained. "Are you offering to leave some for us?"

A spurt of smoke was the black dragon's only answer. He turned away, towards one of the ships that had joined them the night before. Rhaegal could see one of the men aboard throwing a basketful of bloody scraps overboard.

Viserion saw it too. "He can't be _that_ hungry."

"He's not," Rhaegal said. "He's after what follows the boats to pick that up. If you think you can handle one of those big fish, you should follow one of the newcomers too. They do a lot of cooking, and seem to throw away half of it."

"No," said his brother regretfully. "I might get out of the water with it, but I could never get it properly cooked and catch it again."

"So, fish fish fish. Did you notice the little fellow's with Mother, in the lead ship?"

Drogon suddenly folded his wings and dropped in a shallow dive, entering the water with a splash that rocked the boat a hundred feet away and sent the panicked humans on deck scrambling for handholds. He burst from the water a moment later and climbed, a struggling man-sized creature in his jaws. A hundred feet above the masts of the ships, he tossed his prey into the air and roasted it with a jet of flame before catching it and bolting it down. "You should feel lucky there's enough out here to keep me fed, otherwise I might eat you."

"You'd find me very hard to swallow, big brother," said the white-and-scarlet dragon, firing a jet in Drogon's direction.

"Cool down, you two," said Rhaegal absently as he scanned the horizon ahead: the straight line where sea and sky met had a faint irregularity to it now, a shadowy hint of land probably not yet visible to the little ones on the boats. "The way you two bicker, one might think you were enemies in a past life."


End file.
